


Striders’ Strife Saturdays

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Smut, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 07:21:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dirk thinks it’ll be interesting to partake in a little bit of roleplay where he gets to be Bro, but there’s only one Bro and you under no circumstances are you ever allowed to touch his stuff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Striders’ Strife Saturdays

**> Bro: Track down hat**

Your name is Bro Strider and you’ve misplaced your fucking hat. 

No, scratch that. You haven’t misplaced your hat, someone fucking  _stole_  it. Whenever you’re not wearing it, you keep it safely and securely sitting on the bedpost of your bed. You know that no one would be stupid enough to come in your room and touch your shit while you’re sleeping—which is the only time when you take off your beloved hat—but low and behold the shit is missing and someone’s about to get fucked up. 

It’ll be simple enough to find it, you think. Thanks to your living arrangements, you already have a list of two suspects to interrogate. 

_You decide to start with the smarter and more cunning of the two._

When you open Dirk’s door, you don’t find him wearing your hat. Hell, you don’t find him at all. His room is empty. You figure while you’re in there, you might as well snoop around in his shit to see what he does in his free time, which is all the time because he’s a jobless freeloader. 

**> Dirk: Adorn head with hat**

Your name is Dirk Strider and you’ve stolen Bro’s hat. 

Well, you haven’t really  _stolen_  it. You’re just borrowing it for a little bit of roleplay. It’s late and Bro’s asleep, so as soon as you’re done, you’ll be able to return it before he even realizes it was missing.

You’ve also stolen his shirt, but you’ll probably have to end up hiding that in your dirty clothes hamper until you can wash it. You’re not sure yet. It depends on how everything goes. 

Anyway, you’re wasting a lot of time thinking about this and you should probably get things started. 

You creep over to your bro’s bed and stand next to it. He almost looks cute and innocent when he’s sleeping like this, arms and legs tossed wildly about the bed, shirtless and wearing nothing but a pair of red and orange boxers. 

Orange is your favorite color. 

_How considerate._

You lean down and brush your lips against his ear before whispering his name. When he doesn’t respond, you nip at his earlobe with another pressure to startle him awake.

“God, what the fuck, Bro?” He mutters and sleepily glares up at you. After a second, he rubs at his eyes and groans. 

He finally realizes who you are. 

“What the fuck are you even doing, Dirk?”

“What the fuck are you talkin’ about, kid?” You say and you catch the smile on Dave’s face before it quickly disappears. “Do I look like Dirk to you?”

Dave snickers. “Yeah, kinda.”

You grab a fistful of his hair and pull him up until he’s sitting in front of you. “What was that?” You ask. 

“N-Nothing,” he breathes out and when you look down you can tell how hard he is already. 

“Nothing what?” You say and you twist your fist tighter in Dave’s hair until he cries out and pulls himself to his knees to alleviate some of the pressure in his scalp. 

“Nothing, Bro,” Dave hisses out and you release the hold you have of his hair. 

“That’s what I thought,” you say. “And now that you’re awake…” You don’t bother saying anything else as you unfasten your pants. You bite back a groan when one of your gloves grazes your cock, the material soft and warm and making you want to jerk off a bit while you wait for Dave to lie flat on his stomach so that his mouth is in closer proximity to your cock. 

Even though you’re prepared, you still moan when Dave drags his tongue along the slit of your cock before wrapping his lips—plump and pink—around the head. “Shit,” you whisper and moan again when he takes more of it into his mouth, his mouth stretched wide, lips getting pinker by the second. 

_You moan again, much louder than the first two times._

Dave pulls away and stares up at you, smirking, taunting you with those mysterious eyes of his, similar to your own, but not exactly. 

“That’s not how Bro moans,” he says, teasing you. 

“I know,” you breathe out. “Couldn’t help it.”

“Don’t blame you,” Dave says. “I got skills.”

“Yeah. Not knowing when to shut the fuck up has done wonders for your jaws.”

You force his mouth back around your cock before he can reply. 

You’re more or less passive for a while, letting Dave suck as hard, fast, soft, or slow as he wants. When you get to the point where you’re grabbing his hair with both of your hands and fucking his mouth, cursing and groaning from every cough and gag that comes from him, you know it’s time to slow down. 

Dave looks annoyed at you when you yank on his hair, pulling his head back and his mouth off your cock, leaving it stiff and wet. He tries to lean forward again, tongue barely gliding across the head, but you grunt and pull him back once more. 

“Dude,” Dave says and tries once more to get his mouth around your dick. 

It takes you stepping back and pulling Dave off the bed and onto his feet to get him to stop. You still have your fingers in his hair, so you guide his mouth to yours and the two of you kiss, messy and hard until he’s whimpering and grinding his covered cock against your thigh. 

You break apart the kiss to grab the bottle of lube he has on his nightstand, which explains why he was sleeping so soundly before you got in there. You flip your positions so that you’re back is facing the bed and then you shove him forward, smirking when he curses and scrambles to catch his footing as you continue to shove him until his back is pressed against the wall. 

You hand him the lube and then make quick work of hooking your thumbs inside the waistband of his boxers and slid them down. He groans and reaches down, the plastic cap on the bottle glides against your thigh when he goes about helping you completely out of your jeans. 

With you half naked and him completely naked, you stare at his hands and then your cock and then his hands again until he gets the message that he’s the one who’ll be the first to get their hands all slick and slippery. 

He snorts, but opens the bottle and pours lube onto your cock, not even bothering to warm it up with his palms first because he’s a little douche. When you realize you’re about to cum just from him slathering your cock with lube, you snatch the bottle out of his hands and throw it on the floor. 

He smirks at you, but you’re panting too much to say anything, so you just lean forward and kiss him again while you wait for your rebellious body to get ahold of itself. When that happens, you don’t hesitate to grab one of Dave’s legs, raise it up to your hip, and shove your cock in his ass. 

“Dirk,” he cries out just as you grab his other leg and raise that up as well so that they’re both snuggly wrapped around your waist. 

“Bro,” you whisper, correcting him, before giving him a quick kiss.  

You feel him smirk against your lips. “Bro,” he repeats. 

_It’s a pretty big fucking shock when Dave’s bedroom door bursts open._

“Hey, Dave, wake up, you little shit. Have you seen my— …What the fuck?”

There’s a pause that seems to last forever. A moment where time stands still and you can’t hear anything but the rapid beating of your heart. You’re wearing Bro’s shirt, which is currently pressed against Dave’s cock, droplets of precum smearing against it and disappearing against the white cotton fabric. 

_But more importantly, you’re still wearing his fucking hat._

“Now, I know that’s my hat, but are you wearing my fucking shirt?”

_You feel the grip Dave’s thighs have around waist slowly slipping._

“Oh, I guess you bitches too busy fucking to hear me,” Bro says and your heart beats even quicker. “Let’s try this shit again. Whose idea was it to touch my shit?”

When you don’t confess, Dave clinches around you and you groan loudly and thrust your hips against his. 

“Dirk,” Bro says. 

“Mine,” you finally admit to him. 

“Why doesn’t that surprise me? Should have known. Dave’s too clumsy and loud to sneak into anywhere and do anything.”

“Fuck you,” Dave mutters. 

“What was that?” Bro says. 

Dave doesn’t reply. 

“Come here.”

You bite your lip and slowly pull of of Dave. You help him settle his feet back onto the floor and begin to walk over to Bro, but he hold his hand up and stop you.

“Not you,” Bro says. 

Dave looks at you, his stare blaming you for whatever is about to happen to him and you want to feel bad, but you’re just relieved it isn’t you. When Dave reaches Bro, Bro shoves him down onto the bed and then turns his gaze back to you. 

“You next.”

You walk with your head held high, like you’re not terrified of what he has in store for you. When you reach him, he pushes you down onto the bed next to Dave. 

“Finish,” Bro says. And he nods his head over at Dave. 

You’ve found, when dealing with Bro, it’s best not to question whatever he has in mind. Besides, he wants you to do something that you’re one hundred percent fucking fine with doing. 

You crawl over to Dave and settle yourself between his legs. Both of your cocks are still painfully hard, which says a lot about the two of you, you suppose. He hisses softly when you slide your cock back inside of him and thrust forward. Your peripheral vision allows you to still see Bro standing next to the bed. It’s only when you’re lost to the feeling of Dave’s ass gripping your cock and his shouts drowning out your thoughts that you realize you can no longer see Bro. 

_But you certainly feel when the bed dips behind you from the weight of another person._

You attempt to turn around, but Bro puts his hand on your back and you freeze. 

“Nope,” Bro says. 

“Bro,” you say, your voice pleading and hoping that he’ll at least consider listening to you. Several hours from now you’ll be participating in Striders’ Strife Saturday and you’ve been practicing your ass off and feel like you’d actually be able to beat Bro this time. But you know damn fucking well that if Bro fucks you, you’ll barely be able to  _walk_. 

“Should have thought about that before you touched my shit,” Bro says as if he just read your mind. You jump when he smacks your ass, which earns a moan from Dave, who seems keen with quietly enjoying your suffering. 

You gasp when Bro’s slick cock glides against your ass and you lunge forward, plowing into Dave, but Bro grabs your hips and pulls you back. 

You nearly scream when Bro takes his time forcing his cock inside of you. 

You decide that Dave is a piece of shit when you catch him smirking up at you, but the smirk quickly fades when Bro pulls back and slams into you, the momentum driving your own cock deeper into Dave’s ass who curses and digs his nails into your arms. 

“Bro, wait,” Dave says, but Bro ignores him and pounds into you, which only makes you pound into Dave and both you and Dave end up moaning, shouting, whimpering, and begging for Bro to slow down, which he completely fucking ignores. 

Your ass tingles and stings from Bro spanking you and Dave’s shoulder is tender from where you bit down each time Bro punished you with one of his heavy-handed ass smacks. 

When Bro shifts behind you and slams forward, you cry out again and can’t control the violent way you thrust your own hips in response. 

“Fuck, Dirk!” Dave shouts and he clinches around, his cocks twitching, trapped between the two of you. You groan when he cums, feeling it, warm and sticking, squirt onto you, splattering against your skin and messily spreading into your pubic hairs. 

“Wait, Bro,” you plead. “Wait, wait.” But of course he doesn’t listen and continues pounding into you even as Dave squeezes and quivers around your cock. You bury your face against Dave’s neck when you can no longer take it and cum,  _hard_ , filling your younger bro while he gasps and whimpers below you. 

Bro manages a few more thrusts and smacks your ass so hard you swear you hear the sound echoing off the walls. He grunts, his fingers squeezing your already sensitive ass, his palms warm against your flushed skin. 

He’s quiet for a moment, breathing heavily above you before he reaches up and pulls his hat from your head. “Now,” he says, and exhales, still trying to catch his breath. “You think about that the next time you touch my shit.”

He slowly pulls out of you and collapse onto Dave who groans in protest, but doesn’t actually say anything. 

“Fuck,” you murmur against Dave’s shoulder, which you now feel bad about bruising. 

Your name is Dirk Strider and you’ve just gotten your ass handed to you.

_You’re not looking forward to Striders’ Strife Saturday at all._


End file.
